


Underground

by sabrina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Gen, Muggleborn refugees, Weasley's - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-02-22
Updated: 2008-02-22
Packaged: 2017-10-03 17:08:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabrina/pseuds/sabrina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During Deathly Hallows, Charlie holds the defenses.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underground

"We won't be able to save many that way," George said. Charlie watched his brother; his face was stony and shadowy. The heavy finality of George's words hung over the room, heavy as a rock waiting only for the right sounds to send it avalanching down the hillside.

"Do you have a better idea?" Charlie asked him, including his father in the question as well.

They sat in the back storeroom of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Fred in the next room laughing loudly with the hired girl who kept the store neat and took galleons from the customers – of which, despite everything, there were still a few. Charlie knew his brothers did more business in their protection shield charms, and truly 'useful' items, than they did their jokes these days, but in spite of everything, Fred and George still sold skiving snack boxes and love potions to teenagers. As he'd arrived through the front door, an immaculately groomed girl was purchasing one of them, asking for it to be sent to Hogwarts by Owl, disguised as perfume. Some poor lad would be taken in by the product; Fred &amp; George could only blame themselves for any broken hearts along the way. It was comforting, however, that there were still love potions and lovesick teenagers in this otherwise upside down world. A particularly loud burst of laughter told Charlie that Fred must have done something completely outrageous. The laughter had both the effect of letting the three in the storage room know that there was nobody out there except Fred and the girl, as well as keeping the hired girl uninterested in the family reunion taking place in the back store cupboard.

It was a month after You Know Who had taken over the Ministry – now, with the taboo on the name, Charlie was afraid to even think it. He couldn't help but wonder how Dumbledore would have taken such an idea, but it was a moot point. Dumbledore wasn't here, and had he been, it was possible that the taboo should not have existed. Charlie's brother and father sat on boxes marked with a wild WWW. The storeroom was full as ever, with boxes of both practical and less practical items filling it. Charlie didn't quite understand Fred &amp; George's organization scheme, but they seemed to have one nonetheless. He had never had the experience of asking his brother for an item and them not being able to produce it immediately. Whatever they did, it worked.

His father gazed off into the distance, his eyes unseeing until he shook his head and looked back. "There is no better way," Arthur said, heavily. The statement fell like gravel on Charlie's ears: he was not used to pragmatism from his father.

"Assume we can pull it off, will it make any difference?" George asked quietly.

"It will to the few we help," Charlie retorted. "That may be all we can do at the moment, but it's well worth doing."

The statement was taken as a decision, and the three leaned forward, lowering voices as they discussed how instead of why.

"We all know some," Charlie said thoughtfully. "There are people in our village, and more we grew up with in Hogwarts, but how do we let them know we can help? Owls will be searched, and the floo network will be watched, I'm certain."

"There are lists," Arthur said, his voice eerily calm, like the leaves in the tree right before a harsh storm. "I don't see the lists, but Kingsley does. We can assume those in the cities and wizarding villages will be in danger first. They'll be easiest to round up."

"They've already been through Hogsmeade once," a dragon could have been killed by the unbridled anger in his brother's voice.

"Aberforth channelled some of them to London," Arthur said. "But you're right, they've been through and they'll go through again considering Hogsmeade's status and proximity to Hogwarts."

Charlie generally tried not to think about Hogwarts without Dumbledore. In some ways it was easy to do because it was so difficult to imagine the castle _without_ Dumbledore. Ginny was there now, and Ron would have been. Ron's friend Hermione would have been rounded up with the others, had they not been Harry Potter's friends. With Snape as headmaster, Charlie knew the school would be nothing like it had been his sixth year. Ginny's year would be full of punishment and harsh treatment and he couldn't bear to think what would happen if his Father were labelled a blood traitor with the law. The family would have to go into hiding then, and what would happen to Ginny?

"If you get the lists, father," George nodded, interrupting Charlie's reverie. "You could pass them to us."

"But how, without them being seen. A Patronus isn't going to be the easiest way to do that," Charlie added as George opened his mouth again.

"We can figure out something," George was undeterred, and he waved an arm behind him to indicate the number of innovative items he and Fred had come up with over the past two years. "I'll talk to Fred about it immediately. There's going to be some way to get a written list to us without it being spotted by the Ministry sensors."

"We've got to be quite careful though, don't we?" Arthur said. "My days at the Ministry may already be numbered, but we don't want to speed that up, we won't be able to help anyone when that happens. And if they catch us, it won't be just me, it will be all of us."

"Which is another point," Charlie said quietly as another burst of laughter from the front room seeped under the door. "Our time is limited on a number of fronts. There are more 'arrests' every day, and everyone's blood is being 'searched'. We don't know if or when they'll shut this shop down, and we don't know if or when they'll decide Dad's more of a liability than help. If we're going to do this, it should be now."

"I have a few ideas to get names," Arthur said. "Charlie, if you can figure out how to get them out of the country and where they can go once you get to Romania."

George nodded and the front door could be heard opening and closing.

"Come by tomorrow, Charlie," he winked, and he raised his voice as he moved towards the door to the front of the shop. "Fred and I want to send some OWL order forms back with you to Romania, and we're fresh out."

 

"You can brew polyjuice," Charlie spoke quietly, the following morning. It was early, before the shop opened, and he and Fred and George were in the front of the shop, Fred pretending to dust the stock, and George pulling out OWL order forms. It wasn't a question, really. Charlie knew his younger brothers could both brew polyjuice at the drop of the hat – it was among their many talents to be extraordinarily good at everything except tests and schoolwork.

"You'd use polyjuice to get them out?" George raised an eyebrow.

"What are they not likely to be watching?" Charlie asked the two.

The idea had occurred to him as he'd walked out of the Leaky Cauldron yesterday afternoon. He'd needed air, something hard to get when he was in England. At the Burrow, although it was out in the country, his Mum was worrying, in Diagon Alley, it was too, well, not crowded as there were few people on the streets these days, but it was too tense. He'd left the Leaky Cauldron and walked through Muggle London. Although it was crowded, highly populated, he'd gone completely unnoticed by anyone.

Fred and George were staring at each other and then turned to Charlie with sceptical looks. "Aren't they everywhere?" George asked.

"They are," Charlie said, "But right now, at least, they're not paying a lot of attention to Muggles." He laid a hand on the counter. "I went walking in Muggle London yesterday and it occurred to me that while they're hunting Muggleborns actively, they're not much more than killing Muggles for sport when they happen to cross paths with them. They're not paying attention to Muggles right now, which means it's one of the safest places to be – so long as you don't draw attention to yourself by using magic. The Muggles have transportation – Dad's had one of their cars, albeit magically outfitted, but there are other methods too: Those buses, and the trains' underground. Since we're talking about Muggleborn witches and wizards, they'll know how to use it." He took a breath and waved at his brothers. "As a Weasley, I'm a target. A lot of people know us, we're old blood, and we're blood traitors, and known supporters of Dumbledore. If I help Muggleborns leave London, people are going to get suspicious. But if I disguise myself as a Muggle – and as different Muggles, there's a much smaller chance people will notice. All I have to do is learn the Muggle stuff."

Fred looked stunned and then nodded, clearly impressed. "Dad would approve of this plan."

"Using Muggle transport will cost money," George said quickly. "And Galleons aren't going to be something that's easy to come by."

"You say as you sit on this galleon maker," Charlie said with a grin. "But no, I wasn't thinking of that. Galleons won't work anyway, it's got to be Muggle paper notes, or whatever they use."

"You're going to have to figure that out if you do this," Fred said.

"Yeah, I will." Charlie nodded. "But in the meantime, we need to have lists, and I need to have notes that will work. Can you two take care of that?"

"You want us to change galleons into Muggle money?" George looked uncertain.

"I want transportation passes that work without question," Charlie shrugged.

"How we get them is up to us," Fred nodded. "We can do that. How many do you think we'll need?"

"A dozen," Charlie said. "I can't imagine trying to move more people than that at a time. And make the passes reusable."

 

Romania was chill and damp after London. Odd, Charlie thought to himself, considering Damian, one of his fellow assistants at the reserve, always gave him a bad time about England being rainy all the time. He wrapped a scarf around him and tucked the end in – when you worked with dragons you really didn't want stray pieces of clothing out that could catch fire easily – before fastening the chain on the cage and checking its security. They were moving a Swedish Short Snout to Sweden tomorrow, back into a more 'natural' habitat, and Charlie would be one of the keepers going.

"I'm going to get some tea," a female voice said in his ear, and Charlie turned to see Essylt, the short, dark, Welsh witch beside him. "I'm a bit peckish."

Charlie nodded, grateful. The Muggleborn member of the Romanian Order of the Phoenix had been exactly who he'd been hoping to see. With a grin, he nodded. "I'll come with you."

The chain was tight, and he moved after her, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"How's home," her voice dropped a notch as they moved towards the dining cabin.

"Not good," Charlie said quietly. "They're making arrests of Muggleborn witches and wizards every day, and most of them aren't seen again."

Essylt nodded, her dark brows furrowed. "Are my Mum and Dad safe?" she asked him imploringly. "Is it just Muggleborns in danger, or are Muggles in danger too?"

Charlie hesitated before replying, "Muggles are in danger, although not specifically so. At least, not in terms of them seeking out specific Muggles." He knew she was wondering if her parents would be in greater danger because she was their daughter. "Actually, I wanted to speak with you," Charlie said quietly as he held open the door into the dining hall. "How well do you know the London Underground?"

"The Tube?" She raised an eyebrow at him as she walked through the door, waiting for him to rejoin her and close it behind them. "I've ridden it from time to time," she said. "I had an Aunt who lived in London for a bit and I rode with her, but I don't think I could tell you whether to take Picadilly or Northern Line and I certainly couldn't give you the right stations to get off at."

"But you'd otherwise know how it'd work," Charlie persisted. "The basics?"

"Yes, I know the basics, what are you on about?"

As they sat at a dining table, Charlie waved his wand and two cups appeared before them and began filling themselves with steaming tea. He began to relate to her the Ministry's actions, his idea to help Muggleborns stuck within England, and his idea to use Muggle transportation as a way to step outside the Ministry's notice.

"Can you help me?" he asked, his hands cupped around the nearly empty teacup. "I need to know everything there is to know about the Underground. I need to look like I'm a Muggle – like I know what I'm doing."

 

It would be a month before the polyjuice would be complete, but Charlie knew that if they didn't act quickly, they would miss opportunities. Dragons moved in and out of England more these days - the Ministry seemed to have developed an interest in making certain those native to England made their way back to England. Although Charlie was pretty certain he wouldn't approve of how those dragons were used, the movement gave him the easy pretence to visit his brothers. It might not be perfect, but it would have to do.

"And another tap with your wand," Fred demonstrated once again in the back room of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, "and you've got your leather bound book back again. We've tested every spell, charm, and hex that might detect the magic on it and none have detected a single thing."

"Worst you can be incarcerated for is stealing a book from the Hogwarts Library," George grinned. "Not that I wouldn't put it past Madam Pince to send someone to Azkaban for not returning a library book!"

Essylt laughed out right. This trip she'd come with Charlie, faking her own heritage so that she could help Charlie learn the underground and to persuade her parents to visit Romania - possibly permanently.

"You're both brilliant," Charlie said with a nod of his head.

"Family brains," George nodded.

"Better than all the brawn," Fred winked.

"You two were the Beaters," Charlie protested. "I'm the seeker, remember? Light, charming, excellent eyesight?"

"You describing Harry?" Fred looked genuinely curious, and as if he were expecting it, he jumped out of the way before his older brother's spell could connect with him.

 

The first of the instructions arrived three weeks later. Charlie opened the tattered book and turned to the seventh page for instructions. Although they were hidden by spells and charms, they were still vague, detailing only the where and when of the situation. Charlie prepared for the trip, Essylt coaching him in Muggle life over dinner. Charlie had never taken Muggle Studies and wasn't certain that it would have been very useful to him if he had (certainly it didn't seem to have sorted Muggle life out for his Father), but Essylt was a good teacher, and beyond the fact that he enjoyed spending time with her, their conversations had been quite useful.

It was after dark when he arrived at Diagon Alley, his brother's shop was closed and dark, and he knocked tentatively on the door, hoping they would answer it soon. It was Fred who did, motioning Charlie in through the door and laughing with him about desperately needing one of their Love Potions. As the door closed, the windows rattled slightly.

"Silencing charm, it's automatic," Fred nodded at the windows. "They can't see in, they can't hear in, it just adds one more layer of protection, doesn't it?"

There were seven in the back room, three children who likely would have been in Hogwarts if not for the war, one adult witch and three adult wizards. The children looked extremely frightened, the witch and wizard simply sceptical. He nodded at them and turned to George. "You've got a way for us to get through here?"

George handed over the tickets, slips of paper with numbers and words written on it. "You should be able to ride in and out of any of the what are called 'zones' and they shouldn't run out."

Charlie turned to coach them. _Look relaxed. You have your passes - and you all know how to use them. Keep your wands accessible, but hidden. If it comes to a fight, stunning and disarming spells are going to be useful, but try to look completely Muggle - your life may depend upon you embracing your past._ It would be the first group to slide out of London this way, but not the last. Three weeks later, the Order was able to assist ten Muggleborns on their way to the Ministry evading capture. It wasn't easy, but within a month's time they were able to help forty-two Muggleborns out of England, their families leaving by normal methods of Muggle transportation. Although for every one that they were able to assist, Charlie knew there were several they weren't able to help. Once in Romania, Charlie and Essylt helped them get papers and find places to stay. The homes they found might not be first class, might not even be close to a major town, although it was a quick Apparition into Brasov, but despite this the homes were safer than they would ever have been in England and their passengers seemed to understand this. Charlie returned, mostly using the polyjuice potion that his brothers had brewed, disguised as various Romanian Muggles, using no magic as they moved through the Muggle Underground and out into the country where they could Apparate more safely.

As busy as he was, Charlie found himself struggling for free time. He worked forty-hour work weeks in three days, collapsing into bed at the end of each of them, so that he could have long weekends to move back and forth as an Order Member. Mid-November Damian caught an old man sneaking about the Longhorn cages. He claimed to be homeless, hungry, and so forth, but Charlie and Essylt didn't speak of England that night, their eyes on the table, and it was Essylt's idea later that she should take some of the polyjuice and one of Charlie's hairs - _'people will see you here on the days you're not,' she said pragmatically. 'It'll help keep you and your family safe. And really, who knows who I am? They won't miss me.' _

Charlie wasn't convinced, but the unexpected visitor had unnerved him. Although they didn't see the man again after that, Charlie was well aware of the possibility he was being watched. He made certain he was in Brasov before taking the polyjuice the next time he travelled, and while he was gone Essylt showed up at the dining hall as Charlie - "She's uncannily good, mate," Damian said when he'd returned that time. "I think she could pass as you." Charlie had laughed and said "Maybe I'll send her home as me for Christmas - see if she can pass the family test."

As it turned out neither of them would return to the Burrow for Christmas.

On a tip from the order, Fred &amp; George shut down their Diagon Alley shop at the beginning of December and went into hiding, and a few weeks later, Charlie heard that his entire family had gone into hiding. It was Christmas, or nearly so, when his brother Bill's patronus arrived on the front step of his cabin. "We've got the fidelius charm," Bill's voice spoke. "Don't worry about us, and watch yourself - you may be in Romania, but you're not completely out of danger either." Charlie was well aware, as Bill's voice and patronus faded into the early morning mist, that his family wasn't completely out of danger either. Everyone in the Order knew that the Potter's had also made use of the Fidelius Charm during the first war, for all the good it had done them.

"They'll be all right, Charlie," a hand slid into his. "You can't break the Fidelius Charm, the secret keeper would have to give up the information, and you know one of your family is the secret keeper - they're not going to betray the others."

"You're not impersonating me any longer," Charlie turned to look into Essylt's dark eyes. "It's too dangerous from here on out. My family has been targeted, and you heard Bill - I may be here, but I'm not clear. We don't know who that man was that was here at the camp. He could have very well been a Death Eater."

Essylt shrugged. "You're not going back to England, even disguised as a Muggle. Your family is targeted, and besides, you won't know who to help."

Charlie frowned, despair curving his shoulders like a cloak draped over them. If he couldn't help other Muggleborns, what was he going to do? It seemed more and more hopeless. No one had heard from Potter or Ron for months - no one knew where they were or what they were doing. They might be dead. Certainly that was what the current government would have people believe. He wouldn't make it home for Christmas.

There had never been a time where Charlie couldn't return home to the Burrow, to his Mum and Dad and siblings.

>   
>  _"If all else fails," Dumbledore stood in the hallway at Grimmauld Place, speaking in soft tones both to keep from awaking Mrs Black, and from being overheard by Kreacher whom they could hear muttering on a landing two or three flights above them. "We need good wizards and witches in Romania: People who honour good choices. This is not only England's battle - although it may begin here, there is no guarantee that it will end here."_   
> 

 

"There is no guarantee this will end with England," Charlie said aloud, more to himself than to Essylt. "Dumbledore knew things were going to get bad - he wanted a second front. And he wanted me to start it."

 

Charlie started with the Muggleborns they'd taken from England - many of them had been Aurors, charms specialists, they had talents - ways to be of use to the Order. A few with families declined, saying they were in enough danger as it was and they wanted nothing more than to live with their children and survive the war, but more were angry at being pulled from their home to a strange country. They wanted to return someday - sooner rather than later - and helping the Order was their best chance at their lives back.

Meetings were Essylt's idea. "You always had them at Grimmauld Place," she told Charlie one late January evening as they sat in his cabin, Charlie reading a copy of the Daily Prophet and doing his best to read between all of the propaganda the paper was currently printing. It had been full of it during the best of times, now that the Ministry had changed, it was pure propaganda.

"It's true," he said, looking over his paper at her. "But where would we have them? We can hardly have them here - it would attract too much attention."

The answer to the question arrived a week later when Charlie was visiting Ernie Mitchell in Brasov. Ernie was about Bill's age, and he had helped Charlie transport three young children out of London, most of which he was now watching in some way.

"I'm staying with this ancient old witch," he pointed out. "She can't do anything, and she's always talking about how she wishes she could. If we could make someone a secret keeper for her house, you, probably," he pointed out. "We use her house to meet."

Charlie considered this. "Let me talk to Essylt," he said. "But I think it might work."

Essylt had become invaluably useful to Charlie, and her excellent ability with charms came in handy. After the fidelius charm was performed, people were added in one at a time. Charlie had lost contact with England when his parents had gone into hiding. So over the next month, they worked on a plan to re-establish contact with what remaining members of the Order their might be. Charlie, Damian, Ernie, and Essylt sat long hours into the night. The news from England wasn't good. Mid-April, one of the Romania Order members disappeared on a trip back into England, and the meeting that night was grim.

"It's completely under his control isn't it?" Essylt asked one night, her hair pulled back from her face, her shoulders slumped over the table.

Charlie said nothing. He'd not heard from his parents in months, and no news of them had come through their contacts. Charlie couldn't ask them to specifically take to undertake looking for information for no reason other than his personal benefit. He didn't want to admit that it was true, but he couldn't help but feel like it was. He wondered if at any point in the first war things had been so dark; If Dumbledore himself had wondered if the tide would turn.

"We're doing nothing," she said, pouring a cup of tea and sipping it.

"We're doing something," Charlie said. "We took out that Death Eater a fortnight ago. It might not be a lot but we're doing something."

But whatever he said Charlie wasn't certain it was enough. He was no Dumbledore: no McGonagall: no Shacklebolt: no Lupin. Still, a week later when Damian sent a patronus that Harry Potter was at Hogwarts, Charlie was there.

**Author's Note:**

> Anyone who is a native Londoner, or someone who knows London well, I'd love verification on the ticketing for the Underground. Historical ticketing practises, actually. HP-Lexicon places the final battle in May 1998, so this story spans 1997 - 1998. From what I can tell, Oyster cards (although used in the film version of _Order of the Phoenix_) weren't issued to the public until 2003. From best I can tell, prior to that point [Annual Travelcards](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Travelcard) \- as well as one day, monthly, etc - were what were used to calculate fares. Since I didn't visit London until last year, and we just used Oyster cards, I'd love to know if anything doesn't mesh.


End file.
